Holiday Spice & Everything Nice

by Conn, Claudy

  Chapter 1

  The two perfectly wrapped presents on Lacey’s desk taunted her with their jolly Christmas paper and not so subtle hidden meaning. Nothing differentiated today’s choices from each other, with the exception of the tiny little tags. The left: Naughty. The right: Nice. Each day the choice was hers. Why oh why had she signed that damn paper this year?

  She took a deep breath and reminder herself why. Participating meant a possible promotion. A promotion meant more money. The assisted living facility her mother now called her home ate over half of Lacey’s income each month. That was before she paid her “good faith” payment on her mother’s portion of her hospital bills or even touched her student loans. Lacey knew she could put her mom in a free facility and let the bills lapse, since they weren’t technically hers, but the free facility was basically just a place to go and die and her mother deserved more than that. Sadly, the better facility was associated with the hospital they owed the money to, so medically poor it was.

  Lacey had not a clue who picked her name, but they had a gift for tormenting her. Each morning Lacey faced an identical dilemma. Naughty or Nice. The gifts greeted her as she arrived, perfectly wrapped and identical in shape. Monday’s desk also included a typed letter giving her directions, very specific directions:

  Lacey,

  On your desk there are two gifts. You may only choose one, so choose wisely. Have you been naughty or nice? Leave the other on your desk when you leave and no cheating. I know when you’ve been bad or good.

  Santa

  Not knowing her Secret Santa’s identity, Lacey unwrapped the nice package that first day without much thought. A beautiful pair of handmade fingerless gloves wrapped in festive tissue paper lay in the box, the perfect gift. Early mornings on her side of the office held a chill she just couldn’t shake until the heat fully kicked in at eight o’clock. Sitting on her hands to keep them warm on days she arrived first was far from as effective as the woolen masterpieces her Secret Santa had bestowed upon her.

  The second day the ripped paper revealed an insulated coffee mug featuring mermaids and matching her phone case. Her Secret Santa either was an amazing guesser or someone who worked close to her desk to have noticed the little things. No one in the office actually knew her. She had moved up quickly, going from cubicle to cubicle, never keeping a neighbor long enough to get past idle chit chat.

  Day three revealed a leather messenger bag complete with laptop pouch, just a day after the strap on her bag finally gave way. Once again, a perfect gift, and once again, one far too extravagant for the rules. There was zero chance her Secret Santa was following the spending limit. Even if someone had made the gloves with yarn they had lying around their house and the cup was a clearance find, the bag was complete with a small charm bearing her name, both first and last, on it would have blown the budget for the entire twelve days. No this person was spending too much and paying too much attention to her. Or was it the right amount of attention? Lacey was still undecided on that. Part of her wanted to choose the naughty, just once.

  So far, Lacey delivered a small tea sampler, a movie she found in the bargain bin, and a promissory note for a week of kitchen duty to Francine, her chosen name. Today’s gift was a box of gourmet microwave popcorn. She was going to have to up her game if the rest of the office was as into this as her Secret Santa. Not that Lacey was fooling herself. She knew that no one else was getting such extravagance.

  “Morning, Lacey.”

  Lacey nearly jumped from her seat as the rich voice enveloped her. It didn’t help that the man standing beside her desk was none other than Marcus Northrup, the man who fueled her naughty imagination. Her new desk was en route to his office and she spent far too much time admiring his delectable derriere as he passed by. He had given her a few polite hellos and one glorious handshake, the feel of his skin touching hers still popped in her memory before relieving some of the day’s tension with a little personal loving, but this was new. The handshake had been the one and only time he actually stopped at her desk before today.

  “Morning, Mr. Northrop.” Lacey willed herself not to drool. Mr. Northrop, her boss and CEO of Northrop Enterprises, filled her dreams and lately those dreams had been getting hotter and hotter. All it took was one hello acknowledging her name to set her imagination aflame. Rumor had it Marcus Northrop liked his women rich, modelesque, and well connected. Lacey failed in all three categories. Poor, curvy with a side of extra curves, and connected to nada. She was as far from his type as one could be, but that didn’t stop her imagination, which currently ran full throttle.

  “I see your Secret Santa is on overtime." He eyed the packages with a hint of mischief dancing across his face.

  “Something like that." Covering the naughty label as nonchalantly as she could, Lacey twisted her chair to better face him. Partly to keep his eyes off the gifts, but mostly to get a good look at him. It was rare that she could admire him so closely. Not that she should be admiring her boss. Marcus Northrup had her in a tizzy of the best and worst kind. He was sex on a stick, had a voice that both soothed her and made her weak in the knees. From what she had observed, he seemed like a nice guy—not an elitist snob like the vice president of her division. But she didn’t have time to be acting like a school girl with a crush on her teacher.

  Damn. Was it possible the man had gotten sexier in the last day? The saying about a well fit suit being foreplay was spot on. The fabric draped over his body like it was made just for him. Knowing his worth, it probably was. Her professional demeanor had fled the building the moment he addressed her by name and, try as she may, it wasn’t coming back.

  “Between you and me, this is the first time I have ever done the Secret Santa.” Marcus leaned over her desk slightly as if he were sharing a ginormous secret, his cologne tempting her to lean in as well. She wouldn’t though. She had a career to think of and some dignity. Except none of that mattered at the moment, and Lacey caught herself moving in and quickly remedied the situation in an extremely clumsy and embarrassing fashion. There were zero chances he didn’t notice, but being the gentleman he was, or at least appeared to be, he ignored her pathetic attempt to sit up straight and catch herself from falling.

  “Me too. Mrs. Jones suggested I get more involved in interoffice activities.” Lacey slapped on her best smile and crossed her fingers, hoping the bitterness tinging her voice went unnoticed.

  “Oh did she? That seems to be her MO lately. I got a similar talk.”

  The idea of Mrs. Jones telling Marcus Northrup what to do amused Lacey. The older woman was a spit fire, to be sure.

  “So far I have been given a stocking with my name written on it in glitter paint, a reindeer tie, and a box of marshmallow Santas.” He shook his head with humor, yet his eyes held a different emotion, a hint of interest. At least, Lacey sent up a silent prayer, her interpretation was correct. Oh, to have a man like Marcus flirt with her.

  “Sounds like a keeper.” She schooled her face. The chances that he loved said gifts were slim to none, with the possible exception of the marshmallow Santas because those are just sugary goodness.

  “Sounds like I got Mrs. Jones.” Marcus winked as he stood up straight. It did sound like the old woman. She was all about holiday clichés. She wore red the entire first two weeks in February, green on St. Patty’s Day, antlers at Christmas, and even sported bunny ears last Easter. She loved her holidays, to be sure.

  “I thought you’d like the tie.” Lacey surprised herself with her flirting. It felt right. Sure, the man was so far out of her league they were practically different species, and sure, he was her technically her boss, but he started it. Or so Lacey tried to rationalize. What had gotten into her? Maybe all work all the time had turned off her common sense. Either way, in for a penny …

  Lacey could pinpoint the moment he figured out her tease and his smile grew. It was then that she noticed how deep his dimples were. My goodness could he be any more gorgeous?

  “It’s
one hundred percent you, though. You have to admit.” She winked. She needed to reel it in and fast.

  “I’ll ask your verdict when I wear it to the Christmas party.”

  Christmas party. She always found a good reason to skip the event. Drinking and coworkers never mixed well, and usually they required a date. That was something she hadn’t had in years. He leaned in once again, this time with his with his arm oh so close to her. It was decided. She would have to go to the party if for no other reason to see him in the tie.

  “So tell me, Lacey, what have you received so far?”

  “I fear you will be jealous because my Secret Santa has been made of amazing.” The words were forced. She was still stuck on the inflection he used as he said you. Such a benign word in and of itself, but when he spoke the word, her heart began to pitter patter. This man was dangerous. Not in the I’m a serial killer way, but in the I’m going to steal your heart without trying or even wanting to kind of way.

  “And how is that?” Marcus walked the rest of the way around the desk and sat on the corner, his legs out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. His eyes glued to hers.

  “Fingerless gloves to help when I am typing and the room is not quite warmed up yet.” She pulled them from the drawer and waved them around like a freak. This wasn’t a trial. He didn’t want exhibit A. He was just being friendly and killing time before his next meeting.

  “I hear they are working on that problem. This room was storage before we took over the floor, so the system is not quite on par.” His playfulness turned serious at the topic. True, it was cold in the morning, but it did warm up by ten.

  “It works, just takes a little while is all.” Why make him feel bad if the problem was already in the process of being rectified? Why did she care?

  “Did you get anything else as practical?”

  “Actually, yes.” Lacey ignored his inflection of the word practical. She couldn’t decipher his intent and let it go. He was either flirting or making fun of her gifts, and she wasn’t ready for either. “I got my wonderful coffee mug that matches my cell phone case and a new bag for my computer.” She held up her coffee thermos and tilted her head toward the bag.

  “They all sound very thoughtful.”

  “They are. In fact, they were exactly what I needed. My Secret Santa is—” Marcus’s pants began to vibrate, drawing her eyes to the place they so should not be looking. Reaching in his pocket, he winked at her before pulling it out, his face becoming serious.

  “I need to get this. Good day, Lacey.”

  She just nodded as he stood to leave. At least she would have the view. Three steps from her desk, his head twisted her way catching her oogling.

  “I must tell you, I am a bit surprised how nice your gifts all were. You surprise me. You might consider opening up the other one next time.”

  Swiping his phone, he continued on his way, his phone now glued to his ear.

  There was no freakin’ way. Was there? Could Marcus, the man that filled her dreams with steamy awesomeness, be playing the side role of Secret Santa? He must have seen both gifts. That had to be the solution. He put the pieces together like anyone else could have. But then again, he never confessed who he was Secret Santa for. The extravagance of her gifts would be trinkets to a man of his wealth and power.

  Lacey grabbed the nice gift and opened it before she could talk herself into the naughty one. She didn’t live in a fantasy world. She lived in reality and reality wanted nice things, not naughty ones. Or did she? She was beginning to question herself. Darn sexy man had her in a fluster.

  As Lacey revealed the hidden gem from her nice package, a sigh escaped her lips. True, the wallet sitting in front of her was her favorite shade of purple, but for the first time she regretted not opening the naughty gift. You know, just in case.

  Chapter 2

  “How is she today?”

  Nancy, the charge nurse on duty gave a forced smiled, compassion flowing in Lacey’s direction. Nancy always took the time to share daily details with Lacey, a kindness the other charge nurse rarely afforded her. All of the nurses were amazing to her mother. Their manner with Lacey was far from the most important issue at hand.

  “Much the same, dear.” The grandmotherly woman placed her hand on Lacey’s arm, a gesture she usually reserved for when things looked bad. Lacey feared “much the same” held a bit more to it than face value.

  “Did the doctor say anything promising on rounds?”

  The nurse’s eyes fell. Lacey braced herself for the bad news which was sure to follow.

  “The doctors decided that since her condition has been, in their words, ‘stable’ she doesn’t need daily rounds any longer.” Her fingers air quoted the word stable.

  “So every other day?”

  “Once a week, I’m afraid.” The nurse gave her arm a quick squeeze.

  That didn’t make sense. Why would they not want to keep an eye on her? Her heart rate fluctuated at odd times, her spoken words couldn’t convey any problems, due to their lack of clarity and frequency. She was still unable to eat anything other than the softest foods and often required IVs for fluid. Unless … Lacey’s eyes teared up at the realization.

  “They gave up on her, didn’t they?”

  “They don’t matter.” Nancy tilted Lacey’s chin to force her to meet her eyes. “You haven’t given up on her. I haven’t given up on her. Not one nurse on this floor has. Don’t let them convince you otherwise.” Nancy’s words held such conviction and honesty, reaffirming Lacey’s decision to keep her mom at a facility that left her living in a rundown studio eating ramen.

  “I won’t. She has to get better. She just has to.” Lacey’s eyes blinked in rapid succession as she tried and failed to contain her tears.

  “Shhh, love.” Nancy stepped forward, embracing Lacey with compassion. “She will. I can see it in her eyes. Not always, but once in a while I see a spark of determination. She wants this.”

  “I thought I was imagining that.” The moments were rare, but they were there, often when Lacey regaled her with stories of something silly that happened at work. Her mother had always loved hearing about the things in her life that most people would find boring.

  “Your mom beat cancer.” Nancy pulled back slightly. “There’s no way she’s going to let a little stroke hold her down. Besides, this is good news.” Lacey knew “good” was a stretch, but Nancy had never lied to her even when the news was bad. Lacey gave a subtle nod for her to continue. “If the doctors say, and we know wrongfully so, that this is as good as she’ll get, I can connect you with someone who can help you file for medical insurance and possible benefits.”

  “That is sweet, but she’s been denied already.” Hours and hours of paperwork filed for multiple agencies had produced absolutely nothing but tears and exhaustion. “Many times.” She sighed in resignation.

  “And this time she won’t be denied. I can feel it in my bones.” Nancy leaned in and lowered her voice to but a whisper. “This isn’t just a patient advocate getting paid peanuts and paying their dues.” She leaned over, grabbed her clip board, and signaled the direction of her mother’s room, and Lacey led the way. “The lawyer was hired to help out the patients we have in similar situations. She’s one of the best in town.”

  “Who hired her?” They turned the corner, the antiseptic smell stinging Lacey’s nose as they entered the wing her mother currently resided in.

  “One of the board members at the connecting hospital, I do believe.” Nancy shrugged nonchalantly. She totally knew who it was, but Lacey didn’t care if it worked and was legit. She wanted what was best for her mom and would make sure it happened, but having to not live the way she was living appealed to her greatly.

  “So they are vested in winning.” If a lawyer could win these cases, the hospital would get paid. It only made sense.

  “Now you get it.” Stopping in front of the door across from Lacey’s mother’s room, Nancy pulled two pairs of gloves from the box o
n the wall before shooing Lacey away. “Go enjoy your visit. When PT comes around to help your mom, find me and I’ll introduce you.”

  “Thanks, Nancy. You’ve always been so kind.”

  “No thanks needed.” Slipping her hands into her purple glove, Nancy pointed to her mom’s room with her chin. “You have a job today. I want you to bring out your mother’s spark.” With that, she entered the patient’s room, and Lacey braced herself to see her mom.

  A deep breath and a slapped on smile later, she was sitting in the chair beside her mother’s bed. Seeing her like this was heartbreaking, but she refused to show that to her mother. If her mom was in there, seeing and hearing everything around her, just unable to do much about it, the last thing she would want was to see the terrible impact it was having on her daughter.

  “Hey, Mom. How are you today?” Her mom’s eyes never veered from the television, blankly staring at the screen. “Nancy says you’ve graduated to less doctor visits. That’s such good news.” Lacey scooched the chair closer to her mom. Her words were all true, but the good news was more in the finances than the lack of visits.

  “I see someone sent you a Christmas card.” Lacey picked up the card from the small table over her mother’s bed. “Wishing you and yours a very Merry Christmas.” The card was filled with a bunch of signatures, most of them she recognized. “How nice, Mom. It looks like the entire staff signed it.”

  The closing music of the TV show playing began and Lacey jumped at the chance to turn off the television. It was bad enough it was the only thing keeping her mother company during work. She couldn’t do anything about that. Saturday, however, she could control. At least a little bit.

  “So, Mom, something exciting is happening at work.” The over-animation in her voice had felt so wrong during the first few weeks of her mom’s recovery. It took many nurses telling her repeatedly that it helped before she adopted the behavior. After the first time she saw a spark of recognition in her mother’s eyes, it became habit.